


Doing Something Stupid (for reasons (gay reasons))

by nighttime_stars



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (because i didn't plan aything), (i guess), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Happy Ending, Haunting, How Do I Tag, M/M, Mild Gore, Pre-Relationship, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 05:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17298374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighttime_stars/pseuds/nighttime_stars
Summary: Who would agree to accompany their friend to an abandoned hotel in the middle of nowhere, just because said friend promised it would be an interesting thing to write about?Alexander Hamilton, of course.





	Doing Something Stupid (for reasons (gay reasons))

**Author's Note:**

> This went in a direction I was not expecting it to go in but I hope you still enjoy this story
> 
> (And my friend wrote the title - mine was just Doing Something Stupid)

Alexander Hamilton was a blogger: a good blogger who was well-loved and wrote about whatever topic that caught his eye. His writings were intriguing and addictive and _long_. Absolutely relentless, he had interviewed multiple internet personalities, politicians and experts despite the fact he had only launched his blog a couple of years ago when he first came to America. He made the connections he needed by never giving up, much to the displeasure of people like Aaron Burr.

One of those connections later became his dear friend, and now he was calling in a favour.

“Come on Alex,” John Laurens pleaded, “It was a challenge. I can’t refuse a challenge.”

“Well thankfully, as I am not a vlogger, I can refuse. There is no way that you are dragging me into an abandoned hotel for a video, Laurens.”

“You’ve been in so many of my videos now so you’re automatically obligated to do stupid things with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“…It will be something interesting to write about.” 

 _Dammit,_ Alexander thought, _he couldn’t argue against that._

**

Travelling to the hotel was fine, full of laughs and singing along to the radio. No different to any other journey. Completely normal. Yet, as soon as he stepped out the car and saw the derelict building, dread weighed down on him.

“I hope that we’ll be able to get inside,” John said, shooting Alexander an infectious grin that never failed to make him relax, whether the cause of his stress was deadlines or creepy hotels. He fiddled with the recorder, adjusting the settings for the gloom that awaited them.

Alexander studied the building in front of him as he made notes on his phone: _roof caved into the top floor, several cracks/holes in walls, broken windows, missing door_ … The list went on. He knew that he could look at the video later to write his blog, but jotting ideas down as they zipped through his mind eased his nervous energy.

“You ready?” John said, holding the recorder aloft.

“Of course,” he said, pocketing his phone and joining John at the end of the main pathway leading to the front entrance.

John gave him a soft look, “You can back out if you want.”

“Pssh. Like I’ll back out now, Laurens.” With that, John switched on the recorder and pointed it at them for the introduction. He spoke animatedly, gesturing with his free hand, and gave a brief description of the challenge. Then it was Alexander’s turn to talk: he had done his research on the hotel, digging up old files and reviews that sat collecting dust in the nearby library (that was still miles away). Buried amongst a thousand reviews and stale articles on sanitation concerns, he’d found an outdated floorplan with smudged pencil lines and missing the foyer they were standing in. Still, it was better than nothing.

The challenge was simple, suggested by an anonymous viewer who wanted to see one of them scream: they would split up and the person to find the strangest object would win. Ghosts, apparently, wouldn’t count if there was a lack of proof.

“You ready?” John said, turning to Alexander. He waved his phone in response and opened to the camera to record. John went left, up the collapsing stairway, and headed for all the rooms while Alexander went down to the basement kitchen. The wallpaper had unfurled with time, forming loose spirals of yellowing material under his feet. Above, the shattered remnants of industrial lights did little to illuminate the quickly darkening passage and Alexander moved to switch his phone’s flashlight on. His phone shook slightly, disturbing the video but he kept up a steady commentary so the final product wouldn’t be unbearable to watch.

“– as I said, this hotel was founded by an absolute dick called John Adams back in 76, he did so little work that the building was physically and economically collapsing after only ten years. Being so far from any town, it was only regularly used by those who wanted to shady deals without leaving much evidence. Now, Adams was rarely here so the staff ran the hotel themselves. There would usually be around ten housekeepers, two or three – oh shit that’s a big spider –” He shuddered and skirted along the hallway quicker than before. “Where was I? Oh right, two or three hosts and about twenty kitchen staff that worked in this very room.”

Pausing to shove the decrepit door open with his shoulder, Alexander gaged on the stench that escaped through the narrow opening. Slipping inside, with his shirt pulled over his nose, the source was not immediately clear. Many of the cupboards were missing doors, the sides were coated in the thick layer of dust and the oven looked like it had been engulfed in flames at one point.

“Okay so,” he said as he moved the camera from side to side, “there seems to be nothing too strange in the kitchen area but something must be producing that smell. A smell that you should be thanking God you will not be able to experience through this video.” His voice was muffled by the t-shirt so Alexander hoped John wouldn’t be too annoyed if they had to mute this part of the video and have him do a voiceover during editing.

Against his better judgement, he walked over to a floor-to-ceiling cupboard in the back corner of the kitchen, where the stench was the strongest. The doors in this building were either hanging on by a thread or like an entrance to a bank vault; unfortunately, this door belonged to the latter.

 It took all of Alexander’s strength to pull the door open; a task that resulted in him almost dropping his phone several times. He regretted everything as soon as he registered what lay inside.

An open grave; the body inside was a skeleton, human, and some black ooze, which Alexander assumed was rotten flesh, had collected around the bones. The body could not have been that old but the headstone looked ancient as the engravings were unreadable and it was covered in moss.

Alexander couldn’t think of anything to say.

Rushing out of the room, he flew up the stairs and away from the nauseating sight. Too focussed on getting away, he crashed into John in the foyer where they split up less than half an hour earlier.

Grabbing Alexander by the upper-arm, he steadied them both and laughed, “What on earth did you find?”

“A fucking grave that hadn’t been filled in. There was still decomposing flesh yet the headstone looked thousands of years old. Definitely the strangest thing in this building, the strangest thing I’ve seen in my entire life, and I have video evidence so now we can leave.” He said as he dived for the main entrance.

“Nope. I saw something stranger upstairs which you have to see.”

Alexander whined as John tugged him towards the stairs. “Why? You must have recorded it.”

“Well, yes” he admitted, “but you have to see it with your own eyes to believe it.”

“No. I trust you so we can leave.”

John studied his face and when he saw that Alexander wasn’t so afraid that he truly wanted to leave, he laughed again and they continued to one of the upstairs rooms. John wasn’t the only one who was too stubborn to ignore a challenge.

They arrived at room 13 on the second floor. The white paint was peeling and it was only connected to the frame by the top hinge so it swung open with little effort.

Alexander knew that John’s camera was still recording but neither of them spoke as they stared at the otherworldly sight. John, despite the fact he had already been there, didn’t push Alexander way when he grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly.

Every piece of furniture, from the fake ornate bed to the faded armchair, was upside down on the ceiling. Even the carpet was above then instead of under their feet.

“What the fuck?” Alexander said; his voice was unusually quiet like he was worried about disturbing someone.

 “Do I win?”

“Yeah… I’m not going to fight you on this one. Even though I should get points for the smell.”

“This isn’t a point-based competition.”

“Still –”

Loud groaning and creaking sounds erupted around them and the inverted furniture started to shake. Cracks appeared in the walls and plaster from the ceiling in the hallway started to rain down. Without saying anything, both of them sprinted down the stairs and outside. The footage would definitely be poor-quality but Alexander couldn’t bring himself to care as they watched the building collapse from the pathway.

Silently, John stopped recording and looked at Alexander. “So,” he said, his fake casualness was evident in his tone, “want to get ice cream on the way back?”

Alexander laughed, it was high with nerves and relief, but he was glad that John brought him along. Despite the crazy shit they saw that day, he would do anything to spend time with John.

“Sounds great.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading 
> 
> Kudos and comments are also welcome
> 
> My (very new) tumblr is @randomwriter2002 if you're interested


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